Chapter Eleven
For a long moment, Jackson couldn’t find his voice. The words hung in the air like a live wire.
An exchange. Avery for the hostages.
He looked at her. She’d gone pale, her hands clenched together in her lap, eyes locked on the photos still glowing on his phone. He could see the fear there, but also guilt, the kind that twisted deep and sharp.
Jackson felt anger rise, hot and steady, burning through the shock. “They’re not getting her,” he said, his voice low and hard. “That’s not even on the table.”
“Jackson…” Avery started, her voice shaky.
He cut her a look that stopped her cold. “Don’t,” he said. “This isn’t on you.”
He turned back to the phone. “Noah, you have any idea where they’re being held?”
“Not yet,” Noah said, his tone clipped and tight. “I’ve got every available tech and operative working on it.”
Jackson stared at the images again. Riley Burke and Megan O’Hara. Both were blindfolded now, their heads tilted toward the floor. They were no doubt terrified. Vulnerable.
Noah’s next words hit harder than the rest. “Riley’s my niece.”
Jackson’s grip on the phone tightened. “Hell,” he muttered. The anger in him flared hotter, cutting through the exhaustion and frustration.
He couldn’t stand the thought of Noah’s family caught in this mess. Couldn’t stand that Avery was being used as bait.
“We’ll find them,” Jackson said finally. “And when we do, we’ll make sure the people behind this regret touching anyone tied to Crossfire Ops.”
There was a short silence before Noah spoke again. “I know we will.”
Jackson looked at Avery once more. Her eyes met his, filled with worry and something close to resignation.
He shook his head. “You’re not going anywhere near them. Not while I’m breathing.”
And he meant it.
Avery pushed back from the desk, her chair scraping against the floor. “I can’t just sit here, Jackson,” she said, her voice shaking. “They’re going to kill those women if I don’t turn myself over.”
“No,” Jackson said instantly. His tone was sharp, final.
“Jackson, I have to,” she argued. “They want me. If that’s the only way to save them—”
Noah’s voice cut in through the phone. “Avery, don’t even think about it. You hold off and give my people a chance to work the problem. We’re already tracing the signal from the kidnappers’ message. We’ll find them.”
Avery’s eyes glistened, but she nodded. Jackson could tell it wasn’t agreement. It was desperation.
He rubbed a hand over his jaw and forced himself to focus. “Noah, when’s Sheriff Chase bringing in Darian, Charlotte, and Mick for questioning?”
“About an hour,” Noah said. “Warren’s being brought in, too. The sheriff’s running all of them through separate interviews.”
Avery looked up sharply. “I want to be there for that.”
Jackson turned toward her. “No.” She started to speak, but he didn’t let her. “It’s too risky. The kidnappers could have taken those techs to lure you out. If you show up at the sheriff’s office, you’re walking right into a trap.”
Her chin trembled, but she held his gaze. “Then they’ll just keep kidnapping and killing people until I do something.”
“Not if I can stop them,” Jackson said, locking gazes with her. “But you going out there could make things worse.”
Noah sighed heavily on the line. “Jackson’s right. They could have eyes on the sheriff’s station and be waiting for you there.”
The silence that followed was thick. Jackson could almost feel the war going on inside her. The need to help against the instinct to survive.
He wanted to tell her it would be all right, but right now, even he couldn’t promise that.
“For now, I think it’s a good idea for both of you to come to Crossfire Ops headquarters,” Noah went on a moment later. “If we come up with a plan that involves either of you, I need you close.”
Jackson exchanged a look with Avery. She was pale but composed, her eyes still shadowed with worry.
“I need your location,” Noah added. “Once I have that, I’ll send a pickup.”
Jackson trusted Noah with his life. With Avery’s life, too, so he gave his boss the address. “You’re sending a team?”
“No,” Noah said. “A helicopter. It’ll be faster and safer than putting you on the road. I don’t want you driving into an ambush.”
Jackson thought of the last time they’d been hunted on open ground, of the grenade launcher and the explosion that had leveled his house. His gut tightened. “You sure about that? We’ve already seen what they’re willing to use.”
“I’m sure,” Noah said. “All precautions will be taken. The pilot’s one of ours, and I’ll have an armed escort on board. No risks.”
Jackson blew out a slow breath and looked at Avery. “You okay with this?”
She nodded, obviously trying to hide the tension in her shoulders. “When do we leave here?”
“Within the hour,” Noah said. “Sit tight until then. The second its wheels are down, get on board and don’t look back.”
“Copy that,” Jackson said.
Jackson tapped the phone again. “Noah, one more thing. Avery’s going to need clothes. We had to toss hers after the tracker scare.”
“I’ll handle it,” Noah said. “You’ll have what you need when you get here.”
The line went dead.
Jackson set the phone down and blew out a slow breath. He hoped like hell this wasn’t a mistake. The idea of putting Avery on a helicopter, even one guarded by Crossfire Ops, twisted at his gut.
He crossed to the garage, grabbed their gear from the SUV, and brought it inside. He handed Avery a fresh vest from his duffel. “Put this on,” he said. “It’s not custom-fitted, but it’ll stop a round.”
“Thanks,” she said quietly, slipping it over her shirt.
They’d barely finished getting ready when dispatch patched through another call. The voice on the other end was shaking.
“Jackson, it’s Warren.”
Jackson felt his pulse pick up. “What’s going on?”
“I’m on my way to the sheriff’s office,” Warren said. “But I think someone’s going to try to execute me before I get there.”
Jackson frowned, weighing the tone of panic in the man’s voice. “Ask Sheriff Chase for police protection. Have her send units to escort you in.”
“I will,” Warren said quickly, then his voice cracked. “But you’ve got to believe me, I’m innocent. The Brotherhood’s setting me up.”
Jackson didn’t answer right away.
Warren kept going, the fear spilling out in a rush. “If Avery hadn’t done that podcast on Melissa, none of this would’ve happened. The Brotherhood might’ve never found her.”
Jackson’s jaw tightened. “You don’t get to blame her for this, Warren. You made your own choices.”
“She brought the attention,” Warren said, voice rising. “You think they’d be after me if she’d just left it alone?”
Jackson’s tone dropped, cold and steady. “Watch yourself. Sheriff Chase will handle your safety, but if I find out you’re lying to me, you’ll regret it.”
The line went quiet for a beat, then disconnected.
Jackson stared at the phone for a long second, jaw still clenched.
He didn’t know if Warren was panicking, lying, or finally telling the truth.
But one thing was clear. The Brotherhood was tightening the noose.
The minutes dragged as they waited. Avery paced the length of the room, her nerves showing in every restless turn. Jackson stayed near the window, scanning the stretch of road that led toward the creek.
Then, in the distance, came the low thump of rotor blades. The sound built fast, echoing off the trees. Jackson stepped outside as the helicopter appeared over the rise, kicking up a spray of rain and leaves as it came in low.
It was a Crossfire Ops bird, matte black with the company insignia on the tail. The pilot handled it like he’d been born in the air, settling the chopper onto the road in front of the cabin with barely a shudder.
Jackson shielded his face from the rotor wash as he motioned for Avery to follow. They ran toward it, ducking instinctively as the blades beat the air.
The side door slid open, and a familiar grin greeted them. Beck Culver, former combat medic and one of Crossfire Ops’ best pilots, leaned out with a headset around his neck.
“About time you two got the VIP treatment,” Beck called over the noise. His grin faded when his eyes landed on Avery. “Hell, Avery Hastings. Been a long time.”
Avery managed a tight smile. “It has. Good to see you, Beck.”
He nodded toward the seat beside him. “Let’s get you strapped in. We’ll have you at headquarters in no time.”
Jackson climbed in after her, his gaze moving to the man in the back, already checking gear and keeping watch. Cal Granger. Another Crossfire Ops veteran and someone Avery clearly recognized.
“Cal,” she said, her voice raised over the rotors. “Any word from the kidnappers?”
Cal shook his head. “Nothing yet. Noah’s keeping every channel open, but whoever took them is staying quiet.”
Jackson settled into his seat, tightening the harness. “Then we move fast and stay alert,” he said.
Beck gave a sharp nod, flipping switches and bringing the engine to full power. “You got it, boss.”
The helicopter lifted off, rising above the wet fields and trees. The cabin below grew smaller, fading into the mist.
Jackson kept his eyes on the horizon. Every instinct told him the next move from the Brotherhood was coming.
He just didn’t know from where.
The flight was short, but the storm still chased them the whole way. When the clouds finally broke, Crossfire Ops headquarters came into view below.
The compound stretched across several acres of open land, surrounded by high fencing and motion sensors along the perimeter.
Several large buildings dominated the center—command operations, weapons training, and tech.
A landing strip cut through the far end of the property, with hangars positioned along its edge.
Beyond that, smaller cabins and living quarters sat near the tree line, close enough for quick access but far enough to give the team a little privacy.
Beck guided the helicopter down with a steady hand, setting it smoothly onto the pad. As soon as the blades slowed, Jackson unbuckled his harness and motioned for Avery to follow him out. Cal climbed down behind them, his rifle slung and ready.